morning. Can we talk about this again before I go?”
“I don’t . . . I . . .”
His father’s gaze turned almost pleading. “You had PTSD. That wasn’t taken into near enough consideration during your court-martial. And the JAG who was assigned to your case didn’t have a clue what he was doing. We can get that dishonorable off your record. Son, if you’ll just—”
It was that word again—son—that shoved into him with such force he nearly stumbled as he spun and walked away.
Jenessa would not cry in front of the kids.
No matter the jagged edges of her broken heart, piercing her from the inside out, she would not cry in front of them.
She knelt in front of Violet in the entryway, helping her shrug one arm into her fall coat then pulling the other sleeve carefully over her little cast. Outside the window, the wind howled and the nearly white sky seemed braced for snow. Looked more like a Thursday in December than October.
“I don’t remember what he looks like.” Violet still had a trace of frosting on her lips from the sprinkled donuts they’d been eating thirty-five minutes ago when Carmen had texted to say she and Dustin Hollis were on the way. It was more than Jenessa would’ve normally given the girls for a snack but on this, their last afternoon to sit in the sunroom and talk about the school day, she’d splurged.
She licked her finger then smudged away the frosting on Violet’s lips. “Didn’t Colie show you that photo of your mom and dad this morning?”
She could feel Colie shift her weight from one foot to the other where she stood behind her.
“Yeah, but you can only see the side of his face in it and I can’t even tell what color his hair is. Do you remember what color his hair is, Colie?”
“Brown.” Colie’s voice was flat.
“Is he nice?”
Jenessa looked over her shoulder in time to see Colie’s limp shrug. The older girl wore the locket Jenessa had given her. It peeked out from the same faded jean jacket she’d worn the night Jenessa had found the kids in the cottage, the one with the too-short sleeves that bared her wrists. Jenessa had bought her a new coat last week, but maybe something in the girl had needed to wear the old thing. Needed the hint of familiarity.
I don’t even know what to pray anymore, God. I know I need to pray that Dustin Hollis is a good man. That he fills their house with love and joy.
But it felt like all the love and joy was about to leak from this house. And it was breaking her.
She turned to Cade. He’d already managed to unzip his coat and pull off his hat. His car seat and Violet’s sat nearby, along with the diaper bag, suitcases, folded-up Pack ’n Play, tote bags full of toys and books. The better part of a month’s worth of life together represented in a pile of belongings.
It made her think of her parents’ things. Of all the boxes that used to clutter this house. Things that had lost their meaning somewhere along the way.
Would there come a time when Colie looked at the locket Jenessa had given her as just a necklace and not a memento of this time together? Would Violet eventually forget these weeks the same way she’d forgotten the color of her father’s hair?
I’ll never forget. Couldn’t even if she wanted to. And deep down, underneath the heartbreak, she didn’t want to. Painful as it was to part ways now, she wouldn’t have traded this experience for anything. She stood, lifting Cade with her, kissing his cheek. “I hope you guys know how much I’ll miss you. These have been the very best three weeks.”
She felt Lucas’s warm hand on her shoulder. He’d been here for the past hour. Had eaten donuts with the girls and changed Cade’s diaper and quietly helped Jenessa pack the last of their things. He’d gone to see his dad this morning, but she knew he didn’t want to talk about it. Knew too that things were still a little off after that conference room conversation with Carmen last night.
But they both seemed to sense without words that these final minutes were simply about this goodbye. Everything else could wait.
As if on cue, the rumble of an engine let her know a vehicle had pulled into the driveway. She looked out the window by the front door, recognized Carmen’s car,